


The Hazards of Cohabitation

by bottledyarn



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Mild Angst, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-06-28 09:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19809556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledyarn/pseuds/bottledyarn
Summary: Five times the Hargreeves siblings think they've walked in on Klaus and Diego in a compromising position, plus one.(In a world where all the adult Hargreeves are living together in the mansion with no Reginald and no current apocalypse because I can)





	1. Luther

Diego was half-heartedly sharpening a knife when there was a quick knock at his door. It was the shave-and-a-haircut pattern, and Diego sighed as he stood up. If Klaus was knocking at his door at ten pm, he had to be up to something, and he already had that tug just above his navel that told him he wouldn’t be able to turn him down, whatever it was. 

He pulled the door open without returning the two-bits knock and found Klaus, of course, standing there, an expectant smile on his face. When he realized that Diego hadn’t double-knocked back, Klaus did it for him, rapping on the side of the doorframe with a pout. 

“What is it, Klaus?” Diego asked, spinning his knife in his hands as if Klaus would be even remotely threatened by that. 

Klaus sighed dramatically, slouching against the doorframe. He was wearing a feather-trimmed cardigan of sorts over just his leather pants and a thick coil of black rope was looped over his shoulder. Diego’s eyes darted to the rope and narrowed. 

“You’re sober,” Diego said, pointing the knife at the rope. “You don’t need that.” 

He didn’t stop Klaus as he pushed his way into Diego’s room and draped himself over the edge of Diego’s bed. 

“It’s not _for_ that,” Klaus said, scraping a hand through his hair. 

Diego flicked the knife, letting it stab into the bed through the hem of Klaus’s shawl. 

“Your _sheets_ ,” Klaus said, pulling the knife out again and tossing it aside on top of the bed. 

“I’ll just swap them out with yours next time they’re washed,” Diego said, glancing out into the empty hallway and half-shutting the door, nudging it with his hip. 

“You know,” Diego continued, crossing his arms. “It’s concerning how little it bothers you when I throw knives at you.” 

Klaus slipped the rope off his shoulder, letting it puddle in his lap where he patted it like a pet dog. 

“All right,” Diego said, rolling his eyes. “We’re not doing this in here.” 

With a lewd grin that made Diego’s eyes roll even deeper into his skull, Klaus shoved himself off the bed and slipped past Diego towards his own room, pressing the rope into Diego’s hands as he passed. 

“I think you take advantage of my generosity,” Diego said, following Klaus into his room. 

“I would never,” Klaus gasped, lounging back onto his bed, throwing his arms over his head.

“No chair this time?” Diego asked, shaking the rope out of its loops. 

“We don’t have all day, Diego.” 

“We?” 

Diego approached, kneeling on the bed near Klaus’s head and reaching for his wrists. 

“Me,” Klaus said, peering up at Diego. “And Dave.” 

Diego’s hands slowed, barely curled around Klaus’s slender wrists. 

“Oh, don’t get all sentimental,” Klaus said, pressing his wrists tighter together. 

“So what’s this all about?” Diego asked, starting to tie the rope around Klaus. 

Klaus laughed, catching Diego’s eyes again. 

“No,” Diego said, jerking the rope sharply for a moment, making Klaus’s breath hitch. Diego frowned at the swooping sensation the noise curled in his stomach. He swallowed. “I mean, you can make him corporeal whenever you want, right? Why am I doing all the leg work?” 

Klaus made another over pouty frown. “I’ll have you know that my powers aren’t quite as brutish and simple as yours – _ow!_ – and manifesting fingers for fine motor control isn’t as easy as you might assume.” 

“Wonderful,” Diego muttered, tying off the rope around Klaus’s arms over the bed frame and sliding the remaining rope and himself down towards Klaus’s lower body. “What do you want down here?” 

“I’m going to buy you as many chocolate cakes and – _nng_ – fancy wines as you want after this, dear Diego.” 

“Watch it,” Diego said, gesturing vaguely towards Klaus’s crotch. “If I see—” 

“A boner, you’ll leave, I know, I know,” Klaus writhed on the bed, shifting his hips over slightly. “If you don’t want to see one, don’t look for one.” 

Diego slapped the slack rope he was holding against Klaus’s thigh.

“Oh, like that’ll help,” Klaus said. 

“Do you want to be g-gagged, too?” Diego asked. He winced at his voice and focused instead on the rope in his hands, like if he didn’t acknowledge it, Klaus wouldn’t. 

“Don’t go getting yourself all worked up,” Klaus said. 

“Klaus. What. Do you want. Me to do. With your legs.” 

“Oh,” Klaus said, rolling his head side to side. “Well, if you’re feeling so generous, you’ll have to take these off first.” 

Diego stared at Klaus, then at his leather-covered legs. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Preferably like this,” Klaus said, kicking his legs out into a wide V and smiling rakishly. 

“You’re unhinged,” Diego said. “And shameless.” 

Nonetheless, he found himself shuffling off the end of Klaus’s bed so he could have some leverage and a good angle to pull off the stupid leggings. 

“Are you gonna make me come back in here and untie you in an hour?” Diego asked, tugging at the ties that kept Klaus’s pants skin-tight. 

“An hour?” Klaus said, twisting his ankles inwards to give better access. “Three would be good.” 

Diego sighed and started pulling, doing his best to keep his eyes on the prize. But maybe that was a bad way to put it. He looked at his hands as he got the pants over Klaus’s bony ankles and the rest started sliding along cooperatively. 

“Oh, Jesus!” 

Diego blinked down at Klaus’s calves. That wasn’t Klaus’s voice.

“Oh, hello,” Klaus said. Diego’s throat felt tight as he turned to look towards the door. 

Luther was standing half-in the door – the _open_ door, because him and Klaus were both _idiots_ – with one hand stretched out in front of him to block the sight of what was in front of him. 

“You’d see less if you just turned away,” Klaus said. He sounded completely unbothered, but Diego didn’t want to risk a glance over that way to check. 

Luther did turn away, awkwardly twisting his body to manage the maneuver in the narrow doorframe. 

“I was just coming up to see if either of you had seen Allison,” Luther said, sounding pained. “I don’t – I won’t – uh.” 

“I think Allison was down in the kitchen!” Klaus said brightly. 

“Oh,” Luther said. “Thanks.” 

“Dear brother,” Klaus continued. “Would you mind?” 

“Oh, god,” Luther muttered, fumbling behind himself for the door and yanking it shut loudly behind him as he stomped away. How neither of them had heard his equally noisy approach, Diego wasn’t sure. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Diego said, tying the rope probably too tightly around Klaus’s ankle and hooking that around the bedframe beneath before continuing on to the other foot. 

“Aw,” Klaus said. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“Shut up.” 

Diego tied off the last knot and stood up, his knees sore from crouching there for just a couple minutes. He kept his eyes high as he turned perpendicular to Klaus, hands on his hips. 

“You good?” Diego asked. 

Klaus groaned. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Diego said. “Tell Dave I said you’re welcome.” 

Diego let himself out, shutting the door firmly behind him and pressing his forehead against the cool wood. Jesus Christ. 

“Diego?” 

He hesitated before turning around, knowing his face was bright red, he could feel the heat.

“Luther.” 

Luther was hovering at the top of the stairs, twiddling his thumbs like a little kid. 

“You…you just leave him like that?” Luther asked, his face scrunching up. “That’s…that’s interesting.” 

Diego’s mouth fell open and pursed, trying to say _no, that’s not what’s happening here_ and nothing came out but choked half-noises. 

“It’s okay,” Luther said. “I won’t tell the others.” 

He jogged down the stairs without waiting for a response and Diego shuffled back to his room. Nothing like a little humiliation with Luther to tamp down the too-warm, too-tight feeling spooling low in Diego’s stomach.


	2. Allison

The faint clinking of glass just within earshot woke Diego in the middle of the night, the sound just familiar enough to trigger some instinct even when he’d previously been asleep. Bottles, clanking against one another and against cups. He frowned and peered groggily over at the clock on the wall – a slightly glow-in-the-dark one that he’d never quite grown out of. 

He slid out of bed, his feet touching the cold floor light as a feather as he stood. There was nobody who had any reason to break into their house, but there was also nobody with any reason to be awake in the middle of the night rummaging through the bar. Five was gone for the night – he said he wouldn’t be back until the afternoon, doing god-knows-what. Klaus was tucked away in his room as he had been for days, unreachable. The rest were all reliably predictable, always asleep at the same hours and awake at the same hours like clockwork. 

Diego opened his door carefully – an inch past the halfway point and it would let out an ungodly squeal. Even through his bleary, foggy eyes, he could see immediately that Klaus’s door was wide open for the first time in nearly a week. He hadn’t so much as spoken to him since he’d untied him from his evening with Dave – not that he’d much wanted to speak to him. It’d been hard to even think of Klaus without going stiff and flushing from head to toe. Tying him up to get sober was one thing, tying him up to get off was another. Never again. 

He tiptoed faster now – if it was Klaus messing with the bar, there was something wrong, more wrong than an intruder or a disrupted sleep schedule. It was easy to slip down the stairs quietly, the squeaky stairs hadn’t changed in years, and it was easy to slip around the corner and approach the living room from the closest door. 

From only feet away, it was clearly not just clinking – there was also the sound of a liquid glugging out from a container and splashing into a cup, and there was the faint sound of sniffling. Diego frowned and stepped into the room, letting his feet fall louder now. 

“Oh!” Klaus exclaimed, almost dropping the bottle of gin he was holding. “You scared me.” 

“Klaus.” 

Klaus set the bottle down on top of the bar but immediately replaced it with the cup brimming with clear liquid he’d poured for himself. 

“Come to drink away your trauma from tying me up last week?” Klaus asked. His voice was high and melodic, like he was trying to sound lighthearted, but it sounded off, like something wasn’t quite right behind it.

“I’m never doing that for you again,” Diego said, plucking the cup from Klaus’s hands. He halfheartedly reached to take it back, but Diego pulled it further away, glad that Klaus didn’t have a height advantage on him. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Klaus muttered, reaching for the bottle he’d just set down. 

Diego snatched that up, too, holding it behind his back.

“You’ve run out of hands,” Klaus said, ducking to grab something else from the bar. 

“Klaus.” 

He rose slowly, clutching an enormous bottle of vodka to his chest. He was wearing a gray open-knit sweater that reached past his butt over his usual leather leggings, and the sweater pooled over his hands as he stood there with his vodka. 

“Would you put that down?” Diego asked, putting the gin down on the ground. 

Klaus stared back at Diego, his eyes dark and red-rimmed. 

“Fine,” he muttered, setting the bottle down with a clunk. “But only because I owe you one.” 

“You shouldn’t see staying sober as a negotiation,” Diego said, walking over to the couch. Klaus’s soft footsteps followed behind him, but Klaus remained standing as Diego sat so he was forced to look up at him. 

“What’s going on, Klaus?” Diego asked, crossing his arms. Why one of the others couldn’t be here to deal with this was beyond him. It was just his luck to always be the one to have to help Klaus with emotions – anything else, and he was happy to volunteer (except maybe bondage, now), but emotions. Not his favorite. 

Klaus pressed a hand to his sternum, his fingers pinching and tracing at something under his sweater. 

“You’ve been holed up in that room for a week, and now this?” Diego gestured towards the bar. “Tell me this is at least your first use of the bar.”

Klaus nodded, swaying slightly on his feet. Diego gritted his teeth, his hands clammy. The stakes were too high for being a pussy about emotional vulnerability. He patted the couch beside him. Klaus folded himself down onto the couch, pulling his legs up in front of him. 

“Dave’s gone,” Klaus said, propping his chin on one of his knees. “Moved on.” 

The spot where Klaus’s hip just barely grazed Diego’s felt hot and much larger than it really was. Diego’s hands itched to reach towards Klaus, try to offer some sort of comfort. Instead he pulled out his backup knife and clutched it in both hands, staring down at it. 

“I thought you were happy,” Diego said. “You know, all the…uh.” 

“All the sex?” Klaus asked, rolling his head to look at Diego. 

Diego nodded stiffly. 

“I was happy,” Klaus said. “Dave just wanted to say goodbye.” 

A scratchy fist wrapped itself around Diego’s throat and he swallowed tightly. Klaus’s face looked almost bored – empty, tired, blank. 

“Are you okay?” 

Klaus laughed. “You’re fantastic at this, Diego.” 

“Hey,” Diego said, gripping the knife a little tighter. 

Klaus sighed. “I just wanted to have him back,” he said. “I don’t think that was very _fair_ of me.” 

“Love makes you do…” 

“Were you about to say ‘love makes you do crazy things’?” Klaus asked, a faint smile spreading across his face. 

“No.” 

“I’ll be okay,” Klaus said, his voice faint. “I’ve lost him once already, what’s a second time? I’ll find someone else someday, right? Who wouldn’t love little old me?” 

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” Diego said, his hand jerking out all of its own accord and patting Klaus’s leg. He pulled it back just as quickly, settling it back around his knife. 

“What happened to ‘you’d be the last man I’d date’?” Klaus asked. 

Diego shook his head and sent the knife flying into the abandoned bottle of gin, shattering it and leaving the knife imbedded in the side of the bar. 

“What a mess,” Klaus said apathetically. 

“It’s hard not to feel guilty,” Diego said. He didn’t know where these words were coming from. “Knowing Eudora is gone, and I’m…” 

“Don’t,” Klaus said, reaching for Diego this time, spreading one of his large, slender hands over Diego’s thigh. The contact sent a shiver up Diego’s body, and he wished he was wearing shorts instead of sweatpants, so he could feel Klaus’s skin – he shook his head, dislodging that thought from his head. 

“Don’t you?” Diego asked. “With Dave?” 

Klaus pulled away, wrapping his arms around his legs. 

“Sorry,” Diego muttered. 

“Oh, it’s alright,” Klaus said, slowly tipping over until his head was propped on Diego’s tense shoulder. 

“Promise me you’ll come to me next time and not down here,” Diego said, turning slightly towards Klaus. The fluffy, curly ends of his hair brushed against his chin and lips. 

Klaus hummed. 

There was a soft noise at the door and Diego looked up, squinting into the shadows. Allison was standing there, her hands clutching at the edges of her silk robe. She had a faint, contemplative frown in her eyes and brows, but when Diego’s eyes caught hers it faded into a smile. 

“Sorry,” she said, stepping the rest of the way into the room and looking around. “I heard glass breaking, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Klaus sniffed hard and raised his head to look over at Allison. 

“I’m glad,” Allison said, untying and retying the belt on her robe. “I’m, I’m glad you have each other. Luther said…But, I guess I assumed it was more of a physical situation. I’m glad you have each other for all the other stuff, too.” 

“Allison—” 

She raised a hand, smirking knowingly as she cut Diego off. “I’m going, I’m going,” she said fondly, like she was watching her child grow up before her eyes. 

She wandered back out of the room, sparing them a soft glance over her shoulder as she disappeared. 

“That was strange,” Klaus said, leaning his head back on the couch to stare up at the ceiling. 

Diego gritted his teeth. They felt almost like they were going to start chattering. 

“What?” Klaus asked, frowning at Diego’s increasing tension, the way his body was winding up like a rubber band about to snap. 

“Nothing,” Diego said, jumping up. He couldn’t stay down here with Klaus. “Let’s go to bed.” 

Klaus’s eyebrows raised, a coy smirk spreading across his face as if he hadn't just spent the last who-knows-how-long crying and mourning over Dave. 

“Separately,” Diego hissed, grabbing Klaus’s arm. His heart thumped unevenly. “It’s almost four am, you need to sleep. I need to sleep.” 

Klaus let himself be pulled up the stairs and pushed into his room. Diego pulled his door shut slowly, watching Klaus bundle himself into bed, the number of blankets ungodly for the summer weather and the _sweater_ Klaus was already wearing. 

“I’ll hear you if you go downstairs again,” Diego said. “So just come to me first instead. Make it easier for all of us.” 

Klaus didn’t reply, but his dark eyes, just barely exposed above the layers of blankets, watched closely as Diego pulled the door shut. 

Diego returned to his own room, leaving his door wide open. Maybe that way he’d actually hear Klaus if he left his room. He slumped down into bed, feeling wide awake now, his heart hammering away in his chest. He punched his pillow into a better shape, settling himself down with a huff. If one more person acted like he and Klaus were a couple, he’d – well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. But he’d do something.


	3. Vanya

Klaus was actually out of his room the day after the near-off-the-wagon incident, lounging on the couch they’d sat on last night. Diego froze when he walked in and found him there. The shattered bottle was still lying on the ground beside the bar, the shards of glass glinting in the uneven afternoon light, surrounded by the clear puddle of gin. 

“Where is everyone?” Diego asked, deciding to ignore the mess and sit on the ottoman closest to the door instead. 

Klaus lifted his head to look over at Diego, his eyes tired – but lined with his usual smudgy, thick eyeliner now rather than bare and pink like they’d been in the night. Instead of answering, he let his head flop back down and threw his arms briefly in the air. 

“Are you feeling better?” Diego asked, cringing at himself. 

“Oh, well,” Klaus said, stretching his arms out overhead so his whole body was extended out and draped across the length of the couch. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s hard when there’s an old man ranting about socialism in the corner of the room.” 

Diego swallowed, lifting his legs up onto the ottoman and tucking them under himself. 

“Does anything help?” he asked, fiddling with the knife holster around his ankle.

Klaus let out a high-pitched groan, stretching his legs to lift the middle bit of his body into a bridge. Some bones in his body cracked as he did so, and Diego’s eyes dropped back to his own hands. 

“Alcohol,” Klaus said, falling back to the couch. “Cocaine, LSD, weed—” 

“Alright,” Diego said. “Anything other than drugs?” 

The couch fell suspiciously silent. 

“Klaus?” 

“Dave helped,” Klaus said quietly. 

His voice was far too wet and shaky for Diego, so he got up and walked over to the broken gin bottle and picked up the biggest chunk of glass. 

“W-was…what was it he could do? H-how…” 

“He’d just be there, beside me,” Klaus said. “I could, I could focus on him, and not, you know, the others.” 

“So it’s because he was one of the ghosts, too?” Diego asked, dumping an awkward handful of wet glass into the garbage can. 

“No, no, just _calming_.” 

“Well.” 

Diego stopped, frowning down at the tiny shards of glass still on the floor, seemingly suspended in the liquid like glitter in a snow globe. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. 

“Hmm?” Klaus shuffled around on the couch noisily. Diego shot a glance over – Klaus was propped on his side like he was posing for a Playboy shoot, looking very normal other than the streak of black down one side of his face that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. 

“Well, I—” Diego stopped again, toeing the glass with his boot. “If you—if you can’t sleep, I could…” 

He trailed off, hoping Klaus would finish his thought for him. But now, of course, Klaus was silent. 

“I could sit with you, you know,” Diego spat, “when you want to sleep. I don’t m-mind.” 

The side of the room Diego was trying not to glance towards was still silent, so he turned his head slowly. Klaus was sitting regularly now, his elbows propped on his knees. His forehead was slightly creased, his eyebrows pulled up and together over big, sad eyes, made all the worse by the kohl-accented tear track. 

“What?” Diego asked, staring back at him.

Klaus blinked and his expression snapped back to neutral. “I’ll take you up on that,” he said, standing up. “I haven’t slept in a few days.” 

“A few _days_?” 

Klaus shrugged, pulling his pink sweater back up onto his shoulder as it slipped off. He gestured towards the stairs, as if he were saying ‘you first.’ 

“Right now?” Diego asked, his voice coming out almost like a yelp. Klaus looked around, like he expected to find some reason why noon was a bad time to sleep, like maybe an alarm telling them there was an emergency in town, or a rock concert blaring next door. 

“Okay,” Diego said, finally walking away from the glass. He hadn’t really made it much better—now it was just harder to tell that there was any glass there, so someone might step in it. “I need to shower first, though.” 

Klaus shrugged and led the way upstairs, vanishing into his room. Diego huffed out a sharp breath and veered towards the bathroom, running a hand over his scalp. Why was nobody else ever around to help? Why was it always him, tying Klaus up, holding Klaus, being near him in general? His stomach felt like it was full of helium, making him a little dizzy and light as he locked himself in the bathroom and whacked his forehead hard against the door. 

He didn’t even need to shower, he’d showered last night before bed. 

He shed his clothes and climbed into the shower before it was hot anyway, letting the cold water bite against his skin until he started to feel like he was in his body again, rather than the traitorous, emotional body that Klaus seemed to always put him in. 

Diego wrapped his towel—the purple one, because Klaus had been put in charge of buying color-assigned towels for all the bathrooms in the house—tightly around his waist and scooped up his discarded clothes to toss in the hamper. The boots he could deal with later, hopefully before Allison or Luther saw them and gave him one of their Looks again that made him feel like an irresponsible teenager. 

Diego let himself into his room through his shut—and locked!—door, which he always kept that way (shut and _locked_ ) when he wasn’t around because nobody else had any business being in there, and old Reginald wasn’t around to tell him he couldn’t put locks on the door. He shut the door behind him so he could change into new clothes, maybe sweats if he was going to spend the next few hours letting Klaus sleep next to him, and turned to find that Klaus was already there, sitting cross-legged on the bed innocent as anything, like he hadn’t gotten past his locked door.

“What—how’d you get in?” Diego asked, gaping. 

“I know you leave the key above the door when you’re still in the house,” Klaus said. “And I know you keep it in your left back pocket when you’re out of the house. Also, I made a copy.” 

Diego was clutching the bundle of dirty clothes to his chest, like he needed to preserve some degree of modesty. 

Klaus sighed, making no effort to get up and leave Diego to change in peace. 

“What?” Diego asked, holding his shield a little tighter. 

“Well,” Klaus said, curling forward over his folded legs. “Do you think people in heaven, or whatever, can watch what’s happening on earth?” 

Diego felt the brittle frustration in his chest crackle apart and he sighed, dumping his clothes into the hamper by the door. Hands free, he stepped awkwardly over to the bed, sitting beside Klaus in his stupid purple towel. 

“I don’t know if there is an afterlife,” he said. “If there is, I don’t know. But it doesn’t really matter, right?” 

“Oh, there’s an afterlife,” Klaus said, shifting his legs out to the side, away from Diego and towards the end of the bed. “I’ve been there.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“God is a child on a bicycle,” Klaus sighed. “She doesn’t like me.” 

Diego couldn’t even begin to come up with words to say to reply to that. 

“It’s all black and white, very cliché…” Klaus continued, propping himself up with one hand just behind Diego, his whole torso tipped slightly to the side like he was a sinking ship, or maybe the leaning tower of Pisa. 

“So shouldn’t you know, then?” Diego asked. Seemed like a better question than really any other option. 

“I just got a shave and left, you remember,” Klaus said. With his body half-tipped over, his hair kept brushing Diego’s bare shoulder, just barely touching and feeling very much like an insect landing. 

“So what are you worried about?” Diego asked. 

“I don’t want Dave seeing me and feeling guilty for leaving,” Klaus said. 

Diego felt his face crumple, and he stared down firmly at his lap. 

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Klaus said, his head tipping even more so his forehead pressed against Diego’s bicep. “I’m just so _tired_.” 

Diego’s opposite hand lifted up all of its own accord and sank into Klaus’s curls, his fingers tracing against his scalp as Klaus melted down the rest of the way and, just like that, planted his head on Diego’s thigh. 

It felt like he was choking. He pulled his hand away, his wrist awkwardly twisted now. Klaus immediately sighed, just barely audible, and Diego bit his lip so he wouldn’t scream and lodged his other hand in the soft, fine hair. 

“Thanks, Diego,” Klaus murmured, sounding already half-asleep. 

Diego flicked his eyes to the sky, as if the god that apparently _was_ up there would intervene and maybe spontaneously melt his brain or something. There was no mercy provided, so Diego sank back, letting his back meet the mattress and his head loll back against the sheets. 

The half-waking doze he found himself in was jerked away like a tablecloth from under dishes and he flinched, sitting halfway up before the weight in his lap reminded him why he was there in the first place. 

He frowned, not quite able to recall what it was that woke him up. 

Then, because Diego’s life was a joke, his door—his locked! Fucking! Door!—swung open and there was Vanya, her face neutral and then very, very quickly surprised and slightly panicked. 

“I’m sorry!” she whispered, not very quietly. “I didn’t—” 

“You’re not inter—” 

“Sorry, sorry,” she continued, cringing with her whole body. “I just—I wanted to practice my control, and I thought trying to carve something without actually holding the knife would help, but the knives in the kitchen are all dull, and I knocked, but—” 

“Vanya,” Diego said, quieter than her. “It’s fine, take one. But how’d you get in?” 

Vanya tilted her head, smiling confusedly. “What do you mean? We all know you keep the key above the door most of the time.” 

Diego blinked. And flopped back onto the bed, letting his skull bounce against the mattress and rattle his brain a little. 

“Just lock it again when you’re done,” he said, glaring at the ceiling. “And slide the key under the door.” 

“Eugh,” Vanya said. “Sorry, sorry, I know I should’ve knocked more, I know—” 

“Vanya.” 

She finished grabbing whatever she was grabbing, sliding the drawer she’d opened shut noisily. 

“You know, I’d heard from Allison, but I thought she was kidding,” Vanya said. Diego couldn’t muster the energy to lift his head and see what sort of heinously endeared facial expression she was making. “I’ll see you guys at dinner.” 

She shut the door, the soft thunk followed shortly by the metallic sound of the key sliding across the wood. 

Diego’s whole body felt like it was on fire, and he had no doubt that it was red from his cheeks all the way down his chest. He’d barely even tried that time to clear things up. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pressing his hands against his face.   



	4. Ben

“Do you know what today is, Diego?” 

Klaus was braced in Diego’s doorway, both arms raised and clutching the frame so he could lean the rest of his body forward like a banana. He was wearing a short red skirt and a bright blue sweater, and Diego found himself staring for a second too long at the strip of skin between the two. He flashed his eyes down to Klaus’s feet instead and made a face.

“Those shoes are disgusting,” he said, pointing at Klaus’s frayed once-white canvas shoes, which were now more of a sickly brown. 

Klaus toed them off and wiggled his bare feet against the wood floor. 

“You didn’t answer my questioooon.” 

“Yes, I know what today is,” Diego said, glancing over at the calendar he had on the wall. It was still hung to the month before. 

“Well, then, you know that we have a _duty_ to present ourselves and everyone else in this house with a birthday cake to commemorate the occasion,” Klaus said, stretching his arms out to Diego like he expected him to take his hands and spin. 

“I don’t think our births deserve the regular sort of celebration,” Diego said, sitting back down on his bed. He’d stood when Klaus had appeared in the doorway, but this seemed like something he could get out of easily enough. 

“You only say that because we didn’t celebrate them when we were young and impressionable,” Klaus said, sinking down into a crouch, his arms still outstretched. Diego flinched and stared firmly at the wall to the upper left of Klaus’s head rather than straight up his skirt. Jesus. 

“No,” Diego said. “If I give you five bucks towards a cake for yourself will you be satisfied?” 

“A _store-bought cake_?” Klaus cried, dropping forward onto his hands and knees, head bowed like he’d just been informed that his life’s work was a failure. Diego resisted the urge to throw something at him while he wasn’t looking. 

“You seriously want to bake something?” Diego asked. “You never baked anything when we were kids.” 

“I know,” Klaus said, still talking to the floor. “I was too busy _wallowing_ in the misery of living in a corporeal form in this plane of existence.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“But _you_ ,” Klaus said, lifting his head so he was staring up at Diego from all fours, his hair half in his eyes. “You were always in the kitchen with ‘mom.’”

He lifted one hand to air-quote the word mom, and Diego gripped his hands hard into his bed sheets. 

“So?” 

“So, you can _help_ me,” Klaus said, reaching for Diego’s ankles and wrapping both hands around them, leaning half his weight on Diego’s legs. 

“A cake?” Diego asked skeptically. 

“Ja.” 

“You won’t leave me alone if I say no, huh?” 

Klaus tilted his head. “I was going to give up soon, actually,” he said. “But that’s a wonderful idea. Yes, I would haunt you all day long if you said no.” 

Diego stood, knocking Klaus off balance enough that he slipped fully onto his stomach. 

“Fine.” 

“ _Wonderful_!” Klaus said, putting on an exaggerated European accent as he crawled to his feet. 

“Did you already buy ingredients?” Diego asked, jogging down the stairs. 

“I had Vanya do it,” Klaus said. 

Diego paused on the last step and shot Klaus an unimpressed glance. 

“She likes being helpful!” Klaus said. 

“And why isn’t she helping bake this thing, then?” 

“She doesn’t know how to bake,” Klaus said, like it was obvious. He made it down to the step Diego was on, and was leaning into him so Diego was leaned back, the middle of his spine pressed against the banister. 

“Fine.” 

“You keep saying ‘fine’ like this isn’t an exciting and fun activity,” Klaus said, pressing fingertips against Diego’s sternum. 

“We’ll see.” 

An array of baking supplies were covering the kitchen table, and Diego found his steps trailing to a stop just inside the kitchen door. 

“Did you just tell her to buy the baking aisle?” Diego asked, drifting forward to pick up a box of corn meal. 

“I didn’t know what sort of recipe you use,” Klaus said, wrapping his arms around Diego’s neck from behind and tipping him halfway into the table he stood beside. 

Diego braced himself against the table so he wouldn’t fall all the way over and shrugged Klaus off so he could give him another unimpressed stare. 

“I don’t have a particular recipe,” Diego said. “I’m not a…a pastry chef, or something.” 

“Oh, don’t downplay your talents,” Klaus said, hopping up onto the table right in front of Diego. “So, what’s the plan?” 

“This is your plan,” Diego muttered, but he turned and headed straight for the high cabinet where he remembered the yellowed old recipe books living. There was one, a small fabric-covered one that was once blue but now looked closer to a pale brown, that had to have been picked up at an estate sale specifically to make Mom seem like she must be a real person – robots don’t own old, family recipe books, right? Regardless, the handwritten recipes inside were the ones Diego remembered liking best as a kid, and he plucked it off the shelf and let it flop open to the filthiest and most wrinkled page. 

“Chocolate cake,” he said, tossing the book into Klaus’s lap. He was sitting criss-cross-applesauce now, very much as if he were wearing pants and not a short skirt. He at least seemed to have some sort of undergarment on, since there was a glimmer of satiny black exposed where Diego was very much not looking. 

“Delicious,” Klaus said, his eyes flicking down to Diego’s toes and back again. 

Diego’s mouth was suddenly dry, and he turned away, heading over to the stove to turn the oven on. 

“A-are you going to be helpful, or are you just going to watch me do all the work?” 

Klaus hopped noisily down off the table and came over to the counter beside Diego, recipe book in hand. 

“Your wish is my command,” he said, bowing with a flourish. 

It turned out, very quickly, that baking a cake with Klaus was a hair’s width away from complete and utter chaos. The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off – Klaus had a habit of tossing ingredients when they were done with them rather than setting them down carefully, and every surface had suffered as a result. 

Diego slid the second pan of batter into the oven and let out a sigh.

“That was easy!” Klaus said, stretching his arms out above his head. The hem of his sweater rose higher and higher and Diego looked down at his hands.

“We still need to make frosting,” he said. “And clean up.” 

Klaus spun, hands out to gesture at the kitchen. “Clean up what?” he said, trailing a hand over the layer of flour coating the table. 

“Yeah. Funny.” 

“Okay,” Klaus said. “Frosting.” 

“We’re doing cream cheese frosting,” Diego said, yanking open the fridge maybe too hard, the glass jars in the door clattering. 

Klaus sat on the edge of the counter and watched, not very helpfully, as Diego started mixing the cream cheese and powdered sugar together. The mixture was splattering violently against the sides of the bowl and up onto Diego’s hand that he was using to brace the bowl. 

Diego couldn't help but glance over at Klaus as he worked. Klaus was smiling faintly, and it made Diego's chest feel warm and fluffy like he'd been stuffed full of cotton candy or something heinously sweet like that.

"You seem better," Diego said. Klaus's smile faltered slightly, but he shrugged.

"I'll be okay," he said. "I already lost him once, what's a second time?"

Diego didn't know what to say to that. He turned up the mixer one speed higher even though it was getting the frosting everywhere.

“Almost done?” Klaus asked, watching the frown deepen on Diego’s face. 

“Done,” Diego said, flipping off the hand mixer. He unplugged it and immediately clicked the two beaters free, passing one to Klaus and lifting the other to his mouth. 

Klaus moaned as he licked the frosting-coated metal and Diego felt his face go hot. Trying not to look at Klaus, he hopped up onto the table and scratched his jaw. He felt like little bits of electricity were racing up and down over his neck and body. 

“I knew you were talented, but…” Klaus saluted Diego with the beater. 

“It’s like three ingredients,” Diego muttered, setting his beater aside. 

“Ben would _love_ this cake,” Klaus said. 

“Is he around?” Diego asked, looking over his shoulder like Ben would be hovering there, big and white like fucking Casper. 

“Oh he’s…” Klaus swirled a hand indistinctly. “He’s got good range now that I’m a pro at this, he said he can get all the way to that movie theater around the block.” 

“So he just wanders around invisible wherever?” Diego asked. 

“Don’t make that face,” Klaus said, waving dismissively. “He’s very respectful of boundaries for a ghost.” 

“It’s still weird.” 

Klaus shrugged. He looked like he was about to say something when his gaze dropped slightly and he raised a hand to point at Diego. 

“You’ve got—” he slid off the counter, cutting himself off, and stepped across the gap until his hips were pressed against Diego’s dangling legs.

“Wha—” 

He was leaning closer, and Diego could feel his whole body heating up now, hot and uncomfortable and too heavy and Klaus was too close, and then there was a hot, wet pressure at the point where Diego’s jaw curved up beneath his ear. Diego was frozen, his lungs not even managing to work. 

Just as suddenly as he’d started, Klaus moved back, a bright smile on his face. 

“You had some frosting,” Klaus said, patting his hand where he’d had it rested on Diego’s waist. He hadn’t even noticed it was there. 

“Y—uh. Y—” 

Klaus turned slightly, looking just over Diego’s shoulder, and rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t be crass,” he said, smirking at the empty air. Diego frowned, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Are you talking to Ben right now?” Diego asked, staring at the empty kitchen. 

“He was just passing through,” Klaus said.

“So he comes by and watches us—I mean, any of us, in the house, all of us—and doesn’t say when he’s doing it?” 

“Would you rather I were dead for good?” 

Ben’s voice was inches from Diego’s ear and he flinched, falling straight off the counter into Klaus. 

“Goddamn it,” Diego exclaimed, staring at the now-corporeal Ben sitting on the table beside where he’d just been. “You couldn’t have warned me, Klaus?” 

Klaus shrugged with a grin. 

“You know, I try not to be in bedrooms and bathrooms uninvited,” Ben said, side-eyeing Diego with a level of sass he didn’t recall Ben having when he was alive. “You’ll have to forgive me, I didn’t expect to find soft-core porn underway in the kitchen.” 

Diego felt his mouth drop open, but Ben vanished, and he was left with one hand lifted, ready to jab defensively into Ben’s chest, pointing at nothing. 

“Where’d he go?” he asked, deflating. Klaus shrugged, and Diego realized he was still half-pressed against him from falling off the counter. He jerked away, smacking his hipbone hard against the table. 

Klaus raised his eyebrows at Diego’s erratic movements but quickly smiled. “I dunno. Probably catching a matinee.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Diego shook his head and slipped past Klaus towards the door. 

“I’ll be back when the cake is done,” Diego said. He felt drunk and walking evenly felt like trying to navigate a boat with no rudder. 

“Catch you later, alligator!” Klaus called. 

“Clean up your mess,” Diego said, not turning back. 

He jogged upstairs and straight into the bathroom, cranking the shower on.

“Ben, I swear to god if you’re here now I’ll kill you,” Diego said, scraping his hands hard through his hair. The bathroom didn’t say anything in response. 

Klaus was going to kill him someday. Maybe sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! I promised myself that I would finish writing a novel manuscript I've been working on before continuing this and lo and behold, using fanfiction as a motivation apparently works wonders because here I am


	5. Five

Klaus was lying half-on and half-off the foot of Diego’s bed, reading a colorful magazine that Diego had decided an hour ago not to look too closely at, as Diego sat half-awake, trying to a read a book he hadn’t gotten more than ten pages into in the three days he’d been trying to get himself to read it, when Five appeared next to the bed, his hands on his hips. 

“How domestic,” Five said. “Are you two busy?” 

“Clearly not,” Diego muttered, throwing his book a little too hard towards the corner of the room. 

Five watched it slide away and smiled slightly. “I read that a few months after I got stuck,” he said. 

AKA when he was a child. Diego forced a tight smile. 

“Let’s go,” Five said. “I’m starving and I need coffee.” 

“Well, okay,” Klaus said, dragging his lower body off the bed and contorting into a standing position, leaving the magazine abandoned on the floor. 

Five seemed reluctant to walk with them downstairs to Diego’s car rather than zapping away, but he didn’t seem inclined to say where they were going. Diego tried to breathe slowly to keep his heart rate from spiking into full-blown annoyance. 

“So why are we your chosen guests for this _luncheon_?” Klaus asked, leaning forward from the back seat to talk into Five’s ear. 

“You are the only two knuckleheads that are home,” Five snarled, reaching to push Klaus’s forehead back until he slumped all the way back into his seat.

“I don’t understand how you started talking like an old man when you were alone for so many years with no other old men to pick up those behaviors from,” Klaus said. “It’s strange, right?” 

Diego grunted, driving aimlessly down the street. 

“Where are we going?” he asked, stopping at the first intersection. 

Five just pointed. 

Diego tuned the two of them out as he drove, paying attention only to the vague hand gestures guiding his way, until Five directed him into the parking lot of a dingy looking diner. They trooped inside, Diego ending up at the rear, where he could – but definitely _didn’t_ – look at Klaus’s ass as he walked inside. He was wearing those leather pants again. 

They were suddenly seated, plasticky menus set in front of them and a perky waitress standing at the end of the table. She seemed to be looking expectantly at Diego like it was his turn to order, and he shook his head slightly, dislodging the cloudy feeling that had settled in. 

“Coffee,” he said. 

“And for you, sweetheart?” she asked, smiling widely at Five. 

He smiled smarmily back up at her. “A black coffee.” 

She blinked and gave Diego and Klaus on the other side of the booth a hesitant glance for approval before drifting back towards the counter to get their coffees. 

“I was thinking about going to the aquarium today,” Klaus said dreamily. Five shot him an unimpressed side-eye. 

“What?” Klaus asked, leaning forward onto his forearms. “Do you not enjoy feeling joy and tranquility?” 

“Three black coffees,” the waitress sing-songed, setting down a little bowl of creamers along with the coffees. “You know, I’ve never met such a precocious kid before. You two must be raising him with some really modern techniques.” 

“We’re not his parents!” Diego snapped, a fist smacking against the vinyl table’s edge, rattling the coffee mugs. 

She blinked at him, her mouth opening and closing quickly like a fish before she seemed to decide that saying nothing was better and walked away quickly. 

“Anyway,” Five said firmly. “I’ve been away quite frequently. No, you may not know where, Klaus. Is everything seeming normal?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Diego said, glancing at Klaus out of the corner of his eye. He was hunched up a little, chin settled tight against one fist, like he was really thinking hard about something. “Right?” 

Klaus nodded but didn’t say anything, tapping his lips with his pointer finger. Diego sighed and settled back into his seat, tossing an arm onto the red padded seat back behind Klaus. The waitress was approaching again, pulling out her notepad slowly as she came up from behind Five, eyeing their table nervously. 

“Tell me, how long have you two been fucking?” Five asked, leaning forward onto his forearms and squinting at them like he was some kind of goddamn detective. 

The waitress made a distressed hoot and about-faced, her pink heels clacking on the linoleum as she quickly headed back to the safety of the counter. 

“Oh!” Klaus said, leaning forward to match Five. He opened his mouth to say something else and Diego yanked his arm out from behind his shoulders, setting his hand down on the table hard enough to make their mugs rattle again. 

“Who told you we were?” Diego demanded. 

Five raised his eyebrows coolly and picked up his mug. 

“Nobody,” he said, taking a sip. “It’s obvious.” 

“Wha—” 

“Neither of you is very subtle,” Five said, taking another sip of coffee with a frown. 

“We’re not—we aren’t—” 

“Yeah, sure,” Five said, rolling his eyes at Diego’s stumbling attempt at denial. Diego gritted his teeth. 

“No, we—” 

Five stood abruptly, a disgusted expression on his face. “This coffee is terrible. I’m going somewhere else.” 

He vanished. Apparently they weren’t invited to this ‘somewhere else.’ Diego picked up his own coffee, taking a too-big gulp, like he could convince himself that it wasn’t terrible. He started to set it back down, hesitating with it a few inches above the surface and the swig of bitter coffee still sitting in his mouth – maybe some cream and sugar would help. Black coffee had always been sort of a put-upon thing for him, really more for the aesthetic and aura than for the taste. 

“You know, it is strange people keep assuming we’re a couple when you’re straight.” 

Diego choked, dropping his mug with a clatter to the table, sending coffee splashing up onto the surface and into his face. 

“Goodness,” Klaus said. “Gesundheit.” 

“I didn’t—” Diego coughed, coffee still stuck in his lungs. “I didn’t sneeze.” 

Klaus was looking at him expectantly now. 

“What?” Diego asked, making a face back.

“If you didn’t sneeze, what happened, did the thought of being a”—he cut himself off and looked around, eyes too wide, before dropping his voice to a whisper—“ _non-heterosexual_ give you a small stroke?” 

Diego gaped at him. Coffee was dripping down his neck, cool now, and soaking into the collar of his shirt. 

“I’m not straight, Klaus,” Diego said, his whole face pinching up incredulously. 

Klaus blinked. 

“Well, then, why are you always so appalled when innocent bystanders think we’re a couple?” Klaus asked, squinting. “Is it because you’re secretly harboring a flame for me? That must be terribly difficult for you, _mon amor_ , I—” 

“ _No!_ ” Diego yelped, and swallowed tightly, taking his voice back down to we’re-in-a-public-place levels. “We—we’re _brothers_.” 

The waitress had popped up at the end of the table again, and this time she didn’t make a noise, just made a horrified face and walked away. Klaus watched her go before turning to face Diego again, reaching to grab his chin with a hand that Diego immediately shoved away. 

“No, we’re not,” Klaus said. “Do you honestly see me as a brother, in the usual definition of the word?” 

Klaus’s eyes were dark and far too unyielding, and Diego looked down at the table instead, at the puddle of coffee he’d spilled. 

“I can’t hear you,” Klaus drawled, leaning one elbow up on the back of the bench seat. 

“I don’t know,” Diego said, snatching a napkin out of the dispenser to pat into the coffee. “But that’s beside the point.” 

“Fiiine,” Klaus said, raising his hand to beckon the waitress over. She crept over slowly, like a nervous stray dog. 

“Hello, Claudia,” Klaus said, his voice far too syrupy. “Beautiful name.” 

“Thank you,” she said, taking out her pad and pen again. 

“Claudia, if you were purchased as a wee babe and taken far away from your home and raised in an uncertified orphanage by a robot and an abusive billionaire where you and the other children were given the same last name, would you consider the other poor, sad little suckers you lived there with…your siblings?” 

Claudia’s careful customer service smile faltered and her bright blue eyes darted between Klaus and Diego. 

“No?” she said, her eyes catching on the spilled coffee on the table. 

“Good answer,” Klaus said. “Can I have a _scone_ please?” 

She stared at him for a long second before nodding slowly and jotting that down on her paper. 

“And for you?” she asked, nodding at Diego. 

“I’m good.” 

Claudia turned and wandered away again, shaking her head. 

“You know, after all these years, I can’t believe you didn’t trust me enough to tell me you weren’t straight,” Klaus said pitifully, leaning his head against his propped arm. 

“I don’t—I didn’t—” 

“And I gave you so much trust,” Klaus cried, tilting his head back so his throat was one long, stretched out column of skin. 

“Wha—I didn’t even know you liked men until, like, a month ago,” Diego said indignantly, picking up his coffee again so he had something to hold. 

“That is entirely your fault,” Klaus said. “I couldn’t have made it more clear.” 

“I could say the same thing.” 

Klaus’s eyes dropped to Diego’s typical outfit, harnesses and all. 

“I suppose you have a point there,” Klaus said, giving the straps a significant look. 

“ _No_ ,” Diego said, glancing down at his knives with a frown. “No. I mean, don’t you remember that time you tried to crash in my apartment—” 

“Your hovel.” 

“My apartment, and it was the middle of the night, and I came to the door and said ‘call first next time, I have a guy over’?” 

“I thought you were maiming someone.” 

Diego groaned, resisting the urge to slam his head against the table. 

“At least we’re both morons,” Klaus sighed. “Almost romantic, when you think about it.” 

“Oh, Jesus,” Diego muttered, feeling his whole face heat up. “I’m going home.” 

He dug a twenty out of his pocket and dropped it on the coffee-damp table so Klaus couldn’t whine later about not having a way home, then slid out of the booth and stomped away. When he made it out to his car and could see in the stained window of the diner, Klaus was taking a tiny plate barely big enough to hold the scone on it from the waitress and was talking to her, probably making her even more uncomfortable than she already had been. He gritted his teeth and unlocked his car, sliding in before he shut his eyes for a second, to try and dispel the dizzy feeling that was ricocheting around his body, and pressing his forehead against the top of the steering wheel so he couldn’t keep looking at Klaus and maybe then the sickly warm feeling in his chest would go away.


	6. Nobody

Luther was always blasting music loud enough to rattle all the doors and windows in the house as if he owned the damn place. The fact that Diego’s foot was tapping against the ground as he ground his teeth against the thumping beat and jubilant trumpets was…unrelated. It was annoying. Diego bit his lip, toying with the idea of going up there and giving Luther a little scare, maybe trim his hair a little bit. It was getting long after all. 

The song faded and the house was quiet, just the soft creaking of floorboards on the floor above. Diego stood and stretched. Now that the music was done, he could focus and do…something. Something productive, so he’d stop thinking himself into corners of things that he didn’t want to think about. 

As he rubbed the back of his neck where it felt stiff from lying sprawled spineless on the couch for an hour, a deep bass drum started up, the same speed as his heartbeat. 

“Aw, Jesus—” 

Diego paused as the lyrics came in. It was one of his favorite songs, not that he would ever admit that to Luther. He glanced over at the living room door. He’d shut it on his way in, hoping to nap on the couch and relax for a minute. He’d been up half the night listening to Klaus talk softly to Ben or maybe some other ghost in the room next door. Not that he could hear any actual words, just the soft hum of Klaus’s voice with no response ever coming even when Klaus paused for minutes on end. 

His body started to move, shifting and wriggling to the song as he mouthed along. The last time he’d heard this song he’d been, god…twenty? Maybe? One of his exes had liked to play it during sex, even though the lyrics were a little absurd for that particular situation. 

Diego let his eyes shut and his limbs move however they wanted. It was nice to let his joints move in a way other than stiffly, tightly, carefully. Sometimes throwing knives felt like someone else was guiding his arm, gripping his muscles one by one and contorting them, and it left his arms always feeling disconnected and alien. 

“Wow.” 

Diego stumbled, his legs crossing over themselves, and fell to the couch, landing hard but with cushioning at least against the squeaky cushions. 

He twisted to look towards the door and sure enough, Klaus was standing there, a wicked grin across his face as he leaned through the doorway. Diego jumped back to his feet and stepped further away, putting the length of the couch between them. 

“I didn’t know you could _dance,_ Diego,” Klaus purred, wandering closer in a serpentine pattern like he hadn’t yet decided which side of the couch he was going to go around. 

“I don’t,” Diego said. 

“You clearly do!” Klaus said happily, pausing at the opposite end of the couch. 

He jerked left and Diego slipped the opposite way immediately, shifting so he had a direct shot to the door. 

“Ahh,” Klaus said, still standing at the far end of the couch. “Faked you out there.” 

“I’m not in the mood for this, Klaus,” Diego said. The music continued to pound away upstairs, along with the heavy thumps that meant Luther was stepping lightly back and forth to the music. 

“In the mood for what?” 

“Whatever _this_ is,” Diego hissed, backing away from the couch deeper into the room. 

“I just want to dance,” Klaus said, spinning once before advancing, creeping towards Diego like he was trying to catch an animal off guard. 

“Dance by yourself,” Diego said. Klaus’s hips immediately began to sway to the rhythm of the song as he walked. “ _Somewhere else_.” 

“I’m fine here,” Klaus said, darting forward and grabbing Diego by the shoulders before he could get out of the way. 

“Oh, see, isn’t this nice,” Klaus said, his arms taut, holding Diego in place as he jerked and tried to slip away. 

“When’d you get so—strong?” Diego grunted, ducking to drop out of Klaus’s clutch a different way. He walked towards the door, dodging out into the hall before Klaus could catch up. 

“I’ve always been this strong, Diego,” Klaus whined. “I can’t believe you never noticed.” 

Diego made it to the main entrance and looked between the doors and the stairs. 

“Come on, don’t be a spoilsport,” Klaus said. “Don’t leave.” 

“What do you want from me?” Diego asked, throwing his hands up. 

Klaus’s head tipped slightly to the side, a puzzled frown growing across his face. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why are you always—” Diego wiggled his hand vaguely at Klaus, as if his current action of standing completely still ten feet away was somehow offensive. 

“Always what?” 

“I don’t know, in my face, around.” 

Klaus’s arms crossed over his chest, his frown deepening. 

“No, I didn’t mean—” Diego huffed. “You j-just are always so close, don’t you have other people you want to be around?” 

Klaus shrugged and started coming closer again. Diego took a step back, annoyance lancing through his head even as his stomach felt like it was flipping over in his gut, and hit the bottom stair of the staircase. Klaus was a foot away, smiling like the cat that got the canary. 

“What, are you afraid I’ll defile you?” Klaus asked, leaning in closer. Diego took a step up the stairs, but Klaus followed, one foot beside Diego’s 

“Would you— _stop!_ ” 

Diego lifted his hands, gesturing for Klaus to back up. Klaus was smiling, broader and more genuinely than he had in days—maybe weeks—and was toying with the long cord necklace he was wearing. 

“You’re just trying to…you’re just joking, right?” Diego asked, looking down at the broken tile next to Klaus’s foot instead of anywhere near Klaus or Klaus’s face or—

“Joking about what?” Klaus asked breathily. 

“You know.”

“Oh? What?”

Diego swallowed and flashed his eyes up to Klaus’s and away again. He sighed. “About me.” 

“Oh, I would never joke about you,” Klaus said cloyingly, reaching out his hands like he was going to pinch Diego’s cheeks. 

Diego’s face, and, humiliatingly, his eyes, felt hot, and he lifted a hand to bat Klaus’s away but in doing so made eye contact for a split second. Klaus’s face fell, and his hands slowly sank to his sides too. 

“Are you crying?” Klaus asked incredulously. “I didn’t know you cried.” 

“Well—” Diego’s voice cut off and he frowned, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 

“Is it getting to you?” Klaus asked, backing away and leaning against the little table in the middle of the room. 

“Is what getting to me?” 

“You know,” Klaus said, trailing a hand through the air. “Everyone always thinking we’re…” 

Diego huffed and dug his car keys out of his pocket. 

“Hey, wait!” Klaus cried. “You can’t hint at some deeper, darker, tormented Diego and then disappear.”

“Aren’t I always deeper, darker, tormented Diego?” Diego muttered, gesturing at himself. 

Klaus pushed himself into movement with a slight shift of his arms and he was walking now, towards one end of the room. Diego watched, feeling his head move as he kept his eyes on him, but feeling it from a distance, like someone else was holding both sides of his skull and slowly twisting. 

“You have been acting a little strange,” Klaus said, tapping a finger against his chin. He was leaned against the wall now, feet propped out and crossed in front of him. “For a couple weeks, perhaps.”

“Only that long?” Diego asked, resisting the urge to kick over the table he was now stood next to. He slapped his keys down onto the edge of it instead.

“Come on, what’s wrong?” Klaus asked. “Is it grief? Hemorrhoids? Adult acne?” 

Diego shut his eyes and took a steadying breath. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to deck him or—

“You know, I’ve been told my lips have healing properties, maybe I can just—” Klaus smacked his lips “—the pain away, whatever it is.”

Klaus was saying something else now, but there was a noise in Diego’s ears like the ringing after an explosion, loud enough that Klaus’s words were just a low hum buzzing in his chest, and he found his feet were moving fast, too fast, towards Klaus. 

Klaus’s mouth stopped moving and he was just gaping, staring as Diego stormed up to him and _shoved_ , pushing Klaus hard up against the wall, both hands against his chest until they were nearly nose-to-nose and Diego was panting, his heart thrumming and the ringing in his ears quickly being replaced by the thundering of his heartbeat and the sound of Klaus’s breath, barely quickened by the shove. 

“I know I said my lips have healing properties, but I didn’t expect…” Klaus trailed off, his eyes shifting slightly back and forth like he couldn’t decide which of Diego’s eyes to focus on. They stilled suddenly, and then the taut amusement on his face dissolved. “… _Oh._ ”

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” Diego said, finding that his fists were still clenched in the slippery, satiny fabric Klaus was wearing. 

“You…” Klaus trailed off. Diego could feel the warmth of his breath. 

“Were you joking?” Diego asked, gripping tighter. 

Klaus swallowed, the shadows on his throat shifting slightly. 

“No,” he said, his voice barely audible. 

Diego shut his eyes to breathe and then there was a hand skimming along his jaw and then a mouth along his, barely there, just a soft brush, and it was like the line he could always feel hooked through his chest tugging him into Klaus was really there now, pulling him closer and pushing his hands up until they were curled into Klaus’s hair and—

There was a loud noise and he jerked back, his shaking hands dropping to his knives. There was no one, nobody in any of the doors or on the stairs—just his keys, fallen to the ground. 

“I thought—” 

“Can you believe,” Klaus said, knocking his head back against the wall. “That nobody walked in just then?” 

A high, slightly manic laugh escaped Diego and he panted, his lungs feeling like something had sucked all the air right out of them. 

“I gotta go,” Diego said, jerking out of Klaus’s light grasp and grabbing his keys from the ground. 

“Hey, what—” 

“I can’t—” 

Footsteps came clattering down the stairs, heels loud and sharp against the wood, and there was Allison, smiling broadly at them. 

“You were just the two I was looking for!” she said, patting Diego on the shoulder like she couldn’t see the way he was gasping for breath or the way his hand hovered beside the knife at his thigh. 

“Really?” Klaus asked. His voice sounded a little off, too high and reedy, and Diego resisted the urge to look over at him. 

“We’re having a family meeting.” 

“ _Now_?” Diego asked. 

Allison’s face scrunched into a frown and she stared at him for a beat. 

“Is that alright?” 

“No—” 

“Yes,” Klaus said, louder. “Diego said he has nothing to do all day, and neither do I. Oh, family meetings. What a quaint and heartwarming tradition, right, Allison?” 

“I guess,” she said, sounding even more confused now. 

“Where to?” Klaus asked, looping his arm in Allison’s. 

“We were thinking the kitchen,” she said, letting Klaus tug her along. 

Diego swallowed around the tension in his throat and fingered the keys in his grasp as the other two walked away. 

“You coming?” 

Vanya’s soft voice came from right behind him and Diego sighed, turning to face her. 

“…yeah,” he said, his feet taking him slowly along beside her as they walked towards the kitchen. 

“Are you okay?” Vanya asked, reaching for his arm. He pulled it back instinctively – it was hard to get used to treating Vanya nicely after so long. 

He grunted a yes and kept walking, holding the kitchen door for Vanya when he got there because that seemed like the easiest way to say _hey, I’m trying not to be an asshole to you, but lower your expectations_. 

Vanya smiled faintly and slipped into the kitchen in front of him. The others were all sitting around the kitchen table – although sitting wasn’t the right term, since Ben, materialized, was leaning against one of the walls like he was thoroughly uninterested in being there. Diego swallowed and looked at him carefully. He didn’t seem even remotely shocked or even amused. Maybe he hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen—

Diego rolled his eyes skyward. He was losing his damn mind. 

“Come sit, Diego,” Allison said, gesturing towards the last open seat. Directly across from Klaus. 

He approached slowly, pulling out the chair without lifting any of its weight, letting it screech against the floor before he sat. 

“Uh, okay,” Luther said. “Well, I suggested that we meet today.” 

“Why.” 

Five was leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, wearing a glare that looked a lot like Diego felt. 

“Well…well, there have been some, uh, events, that I wanted to talk about in the open,” Luther said, eyeing Diego meaningfully. 

“Why’re you looking at me?” Diego said. “I haven’t done anything.” 

Allison smiled a little too nicely. 

“I just wanted to talk about…” Luther trailed off, looking over at Allison like she could throw him a lifeline. She mouthed something at him. “Boundaries.” 

“Oh, good,” Five said. “This isn’t important.” 

He vanished and Luther hung his head. 

“Anyway,” Allison said encouragingly. 

“Anyway,” Luther said. “There have been a few incidents and we wanted to address those incidents before they become, uh…more. More incidents.” 

“What is this about?” Vanya asked. “Did I—” 

“No!” Allison said, leaning across the table to grasp Vanya’s hand. “No, it’s nothing to do with you, don’t worry.” 

Vanya nodded, settling back slightly in her chair. 

Diego stared at Luther even though he could see Klaus’s eyes on him out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t going to look. 

“I think we all by now know, uh, what’s been…what’s happened, or, well, what’s, uh, what is new here,” Luther said. Diego made a face. What the fuck was he talking about? “I saw, personally, a little more than I’m comfortable with…seeing. Or knowing. And I don’t think that I was the only one.” 

Oh, shit. Diego felt his eyes shut, like his body had some kind of bullshit emergency shutdown. 

“I think we should institute a strict PDA, uh, rule,” Luther said. “Me and Allison, uh…”

“Ew,” Klaus said. Diego’s eyes opened involuntarily and caught on the grin Klaus was sporting. 

“Shut up, Klaus,” Allison said, rolling her eyes. 

“Well, we are very respectful of boundaries,” Luther said. “And I think that should be the expectation for every…for anyone. In the house.” 

“Oh, you’re talking about these two,” Ben said. 

Diego felt his pulse skyrocket. He stuck his gaze firmly on the table. There was a little tree carved into the surface. 

“Well, yes,” Luther said. 

“I thought it was cute,” Vanya said. 

“Wha—really?” Luther asked. “What did you see?” 

“Oh, Jesus,” Diego muttered, pressing his hands to his face. 

Something soft touched his ankle and he jerked his feet back, lowering his hands. Klaus was looking straight at him, his eyebrows raised. The soft thing slid along the exposed skin again and Diego jolted. 

Vanya cut off whatever the hell she was saying and blinked over at him. “You okay?” 

“Uh-huh,” Diego said, holding himself stiffly in his seat. 

Klaus’s foot shifted upward, brushing along Diego’s calf. Klaus was grinning now but looking innocently off to the side like he wasn’t doing anything. Diego’s chair was already far back, but if he scooted it back any more his legs would be out from under the table and everyone would see—Diego clenched his teeth together. This was _annoying,_ so it was beyond him why his cheeks felt hot and his heart was hammering against his chest walls. 

“That isn’t so bad,” Luther said. “It’s good the door was shut.” 

“And locked,” Diego gritted out. 

“Sorry,” Vanya said. 

“I saw them boning in the kitchen,” Ben droned. 

Diego’s mouth dropped open. “We were not—” 

Klaus’s foot had passed his knee, and his voice cut off, a pulse of electricity running from his thigh to the tips of his fingers. Diego could feel his face getting red, and he braced his hands on the top of the table, gripping it. Klaus was watching him now, his eyes dark. 

“They were right over there when I popped in, and—” 

Ben’s voice abruptly cut off. 

“Where’d he go?” Vanya asked. Diego’s eyes darted away from the grip Klaus’s had them in and he looked towards where Ben had been standing. He was gone, just empty air where he’d been before. 

“Klaus, did you do that?” Allison asked. “That’s not very nice, he was trying to talk.” 

Klaus’s head moved slowly like he was underwater, and he squinted over at Allison. 

“Did I do what?” 

“Ben is gone,” Luther said, his voice sharp and loud. 

Klaus twisted around in his chair, his foot vanishing from Diego’s leg as his body moved. 

“Oh, would you look at that,” he said. “Guess I was just distracted.” 

“Distracted? What are you—” Allison’s gaze caught on Diego, and it was suddenly very hard to forget that she was a mom, because her glare was like a firm hand shoving the top of his head down to shame him. 

“Gross, guys,” she said, standing up. “They were trying to express their feelings, and you just—tch.” 

Luther stood too, not even looking over at Diego as he stomped after Allison. Vanya looked confused but drifted after them, glancing over her shoulder as she left the kitchen. 

“Diego,” Klaus said, leaning over the table onto his arms. 

It was like Diego’s limbs suddenly remembered how to move, because he jumped to his feet fast, knocking his chair over. He took one, two steps towards the door and then turned back, some words on his lips but he wasn’t sure what, but Klaus was right there, his eyes wide and bright, and whatever words he'd had vanished and were replaced by—

“You piece of shit,” Diego said. “You really just don’t give a shit, do you?” 

“Oh, sure I do,” Klaus said, grinning wildly. “Not about family meetings, but, well.” 

A flash of anger darted through Diego and he threw his hands up – it felt like he did that a lot around Klaus. 

“You just—you can’t—you—” 

Diego let out a frustrated sigh, or grunt, or gasp, like this was the last straw, and it sure felt like his back was breaking, because he was shoving again, except this time Klaus was stumbling back against the table and Diego couldn’t stop, and he kissed him, again, except it wasn’t soft or sweet or tentative, it was like a fire burned there and they could do nothing but let it consume.

Klaus made a soft noise and clutched Diego closer as he lifted up on his toes so he could sit on the table and wrap his legs and—

The kitchen door banged open. 

“Jesus!” Luther yelled. Diego jerked back slightly, held in place by the legs and arms wrapped tight around him. “This is exactly the kind of shit I was trying to talk about!”


End file.
